


angel, please

by rosietoesies



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, kinda angsty, mostly fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 04:16:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20186125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosietoesies/pseuds/rosietoesies
Summary: Sometimes, Aziraphale wishes he had fallen.





	angel, please

**Author's Note:**

> Last night my mom asked me if I ever wrote anything for other people to read, and I hadn't. So here I am now, finally posting something for other people to read. It's super short, but I hope you enjoy!

Sometimes Aziraphale wishes he had fallen.

Not seriously, of course. Never seriously. But sometimes the thought would cross his mind, and he might briefly entertain the idea before frantically pushing it away, in case Heaven was listening in and decided to bring those fantasies to life. Not that Heaven cared enough to listen to him, of all people.

He voices the idea, once. On the couch, in their cottage in the South Downs, late one hot summer night. Crowley is dozing in his lap. He’s growing his hair out, now, and Aziraphale loves the awkward length that it’s stuck in, admires that little snake tattoo on the side of his cheek. His fingers are tangled in his dark red hair, and there’s a book, long abandoned, on the table beside them.

He voices the idea.

Crowley goes stiff in his lap. Aziraphale hesitates briefly in the stroking of his hair.

“You what?” Crowley’s voice is low when he finally speaks, and Aziraphale is afraid that he might be furious.

“Just sometimes,” he says, a little nervously. Crowley doesn’t yell at him often; in fact, he’s hardly ever upset with him anymore, but they’re still an angel and demon and they’ve certainly gone through rough patches. Aziraphale would never admit to it, but he’s always been a little afraid of Crowley’s wrath. He is a demon, after all.

He sits up to face him, and Aziraphale realizes with horror that he was wrong; Crowley isn’t angry, he’s devastated. His yellow eyes are wide, desperately searching his face for some trace that he might be lying. His hair is a mess and his mouth is hanging open, just a little, and Aziraphale thinks that he doesn’t even notice. He’s beautiful like this, as much as it pains him to admit it, and he wants nothing more than to go back to how they were only moments before.

“You can’t mean that.”

“No,” Aziraphale fidgets, because he can’t imagine disagreeing with Crowley when he looks like this. “Not really.”

“Why?”

He almost wishes Crowley were mad. Anything would be better than the disappointment, the absolute misery radiating from him. He can’t look him in the eyes. 

“I just thought it might be easier, sometimes,” he says a little dejectedly. “Without Heaven or Hell getting in the way. It’d be just us.”

“It’s just us now,” Crowley pleads. “We haven’t heard from them in years. Things are easy now.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale agrees, “now.”

Crowley stays quiet. His breaths are long and jagged, though he’s hard to hear over the sound of the cicadas screeching outside. The window is wide open, and the air inside is stifling. It hadn’t been a moment before. All Aziraphale wants is to miracle the window shut, get rid of those cicadas, and maybe turn on a fan. He reaches for Crowley’s hand.

“I only ever wanted to fall to be with you,” he murmurs. “I already loved you. I just didn’t want to break any rules by doing so.”

“Angel,” Crowley croaks, and the pet name seems almost like a reminder now. “You’re my better half, literally. My good half. You have been for six thousand years. You’re the reason we’re here, now, how we are. Decent people––beings. Not good or evil.”

“It wasn’t just because of me,” Aziraphale says softly, but Crowley ignores him.

“If you were a demon…” 

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale says, and pulls him into his lap. He buries his face into Aziraphale’s shoulder. It’s been years since he first held him in his arms like this, but every time still feels just as wonderful as the first, despite the circumstances. He’s so full of affection for this lovely little demon that he’s afraid he might burst.

“You know, Crowley,” he starts carefully, “that everything I ever do or want is for you, my dear. For us. I couldn’t do something to hurt you.”

Crowley sobs, just once. “Sometimes,” he chokes, and stops, like it’s paining him to speak. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t.”

Fallen, Aziraphale thinks, and goes cold. 

“Crowley, dear.” Aziraphale shifts so he can look into his eyes. Those beautiful, tearful yellow eyes, blown wide. He presses a kiss to his forehead, first, to the corners of those wonderful eyes. “You’re a demon, and I’m an angel. And I’m happy about that.” He kisses the tears from his wet cheeks, threads his fingers through his hair. “It won’t stop me from loving you.”

And Aziraphale kisses Crowley’s beautifully soft smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Follow me at anthonyjelliclecrowley.tumblr.com!! Love you!!


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